Hungry And In Need Of Company
by TalysAlankil
Summary: On the run from the Organization, Xion needs to fend for herself. She comes across a helpful old woman in an oddly familiar place.


The one thing Xion had never had to learn during her time in the Organization was how difficult it could be just to _survive_ all alone out there in the world.

Perhaps it was something the other Nobodies had never thought needed explaining. They all had memories of their time as humans, after all; they knew a life where shelter wasn't a Corridor of Darkness away and food wasn't always readily available at the Castle That Never Was. Well, except for Roxas, of course. Xion wondered if he'd fare any better than her in this situation.

Yes, Sora's memories had been drained into Xion, giving her some semblance of understanding of the world beyond slaying Heartless and collecting hearts, but these memories felt alien, and at times, like they were resisting her. And the memories she was made of—_made_, a term that still rang bitter in her mind—were exclusively Sora's memory of another girl, and the friendship they shared. Hardly the material to build a fully-developed person.

There was still the option of asking Naminé for help, but the girl was firmly in the clutches of the impostor and the man in red—neither of whom Xion was sure she could trust yet. So she had to learn by trial and error, all the while avoiding worlds she knew the Organization ran missions on.

With Twilight Town out of limits and Traverse Town practically deserted now that all the refugees from destroyed worlds had returned home, finding odd jobs wasn't easy. So, in spite of herself, Xion found herself sometimes resorting to less tasteful methods.

As it turned out, however, the Castle of Dreams guards were not keen on intruders at one of their royal balls. Xion had barely managed to lose them in the woods outside of the castle, jumping into a Corridor of Darkness the moment she was out of sight.

She emerged on a city she hadn't visited yet. Most of it was in ruins, the rare buildings in good shape looking industrial and hastily-rebuilt; through the ravaged landscape she could spot a crystalline desert beyond the city walls. A fortress loomed over the town, though it too looked in extreme disrepair.

Xion wondered what this world was—nothing in Sora's memories looked like it, yet there was _something_ in her that responded to it, guiding her steps through the streets. She came across a few passersby, who gave her a wide berth, eyeing the tattered ballgown she still wore.

Scoffing to herself, Xion found herself in deserted gardens—at least, she thought they were gardens. No, she _knew_ they were, she just couldn't put her finger on _why_, since they looked as barren as the rest of the town. Still, the place was empty, so she tore the layers of skirts off her gown, hacking them off as best as she could with her Keyblade, inappropriate though it was for this ask. Once she was done, her dress looked more like a tank top and shorts, with leftovers pieces of skirts making ruffles around the waist that she couldn't quite get rid of. Not perfect, but not as conspicuous as her Organization coat or the full gown.

The urge to go _somewhere_ still lingered in the depths of her memories, so Xion started walking again, until she found herself in a deserted part of the city in the shadow of the fortress. Whatever rebuilding efforts were going on elsewhere hadn't reached this place yet; it looked utterly desolate. And yet, Xion's nose guided her towards the unmistakable scent of hot food.

There, on the windowsill of one of the houses, a pie rested on a plate, covered by a kitchen towel, and on top of it, a single flower. Xion's mouth watered at the sight of it, and before she could think about it, she dove for it, snatching the plate away.

Before she'd taken a single step in retreat, though, the voice of an old woman made her freeze. "Why, hello there. You must be my first visitor since I awoke here, but surely manners haven't changed _that_ much in this city, have they?"

Xion could probably have run away with her prize, but the defeated sound of the woman's voice filled her with too much guilt to do so. Instead, she turned around, meeting the eyes of the woman—an old woman, like she'd guessed by her voice, bent over by the weight of years, wearing an apron over her purple dress. "I—"

"You were hungry, I suppose?"

"Well…" No use debating it. "Yeah. I mean, yes, ma'am."

"I always say a meal is better enjoyed with company. Why don't you come in?"

Stunned, it was all Xion could do to follow the woman into her home—a small, but cozy little house. On the shelves and the table stood vases filled with flowers, all of them looking freshly-picked, even though Xion hadn't seen a single flower growing out there in the city. On the walls, a child's drawings were hanging, though that was the only sign that someone else might have lived here. Xion's eyes lingered on them.

"You like these? My granddaughter made them."

"They're very beautiful," Xion said as she placed the plate on the table at the woman's invitation. Those drawings, more than anything in this city, struck a chord within her.

"She also picked the flowers. Not a single one of them ever wilted. I don't know why, but—" She sighed. "I'm glad they don't."

"Where is she? Your granddaughter."

The woman shook her head. "She vanished just before—the catastrophe." She sounded as though she expected Xion to understand. Xion couldn't be sure, but she imagined she was referring to the worlds being destroyed by the Heartless—the ones Sora had restored. "Wherever she vanished _to_, I hope she's safe there," she added with a weary sigh. "You remind me a lot of Kairi, you know. You have a lot of the same traits."

_Kairi_. That explained the familiarity, though Xion wasn't sure what she could say that this woman would even understand. "I'm sure she's safe," she simply said. "She sounds like a great person."

"She is," the woman said with a smile. "Now stop eyeing this pie—dig in! I'm rambling enough as it is."

Xion was all too grateful to take her up on the invitation. "So why are you here all on your own?" she asked in-between bites. "This part of the city—it doesn't look too safe."

"It's my home," she simply said. "I don't need this 'Restoration committee' to give me permission to live here—most of them were toddlers during the catastrophe!"

"Your home," Xion said, wistful. The only home she'd ever had was with the Organization, but it felt like no home at all. When she thought of home, what flashed in her mind was—well, it was Roxas and Axel smiling, and seashells on a beach, and this feeling of familiarity that she felt here and now. Kairi's feelings, she was sure. The quiver in the impostor's voice when he spoke of keeping his friend safe, and Naminé telling her she _did_ have a place to go to, if she chose to. Ultimately, all things that one way or another, linked back to Sora.

"I'm not going to ask," the old woman said. "I imagine whatever drove you here, today, making this choice, wasn't easy. If you need to stay here for a while, you are welcome to."

Only crumbs were left of the pie between them—Xion hadn't even realized just how famished she'd been. "I—think I know what I have to do. But it can wait until tomorrow." She smiled. "You could use some company too, I'm sure."

"I would be delighted to have it."

"Why don't you tell me more about your granddaughter? She drew, and she liked flowers, right?" She waved at the house's decor. "What else?"

"She'd always wanted friends," the woman said. "And she _loved_ stories. There was one, in particular…" She sighed. "Ah, but it's only a fairy tale. I doubt you would—"

"Please," Xion said. "Why don't you tell it to me? Pretend I'm Kairi."

The woman shook her head. "I could never do such a thing. I will tell you this story, but I'll tell it to _you_. You deserve as much."

Xion felt the now-familiar prickle of tears at the corner of her eyes. She didn't know what to call this emotion, but it was overwhelming. "All right."

The woman nodded. "Long ago, people lived in peace, bathed in the warmth of the Light…"


End file.
